No Words, Just Love
by Circlique
Summary: North Korea isn't one to share how he's feeling openly, but actions speak louder than words. On a cold winter night with no power in his residence in North Korea, he and America become fully aware of how they feel about each other, all without a single word passing between them. America/North Korea. Oneshot.


It was usually very hard to determine what the Korean was thinking, America had noticed. Between the occasional smirk and usual frown, North seemed to go to great lengths to conceal what he was feeling. Apparently, it was considered a sign of great weakness, if your enemies could read you. America really wished North wouldn't think of him that way.

But presently, almost no such effort was being taken by North to conceal how he was feeling. The two of them were sitting on the couch in the Korean's personal residence, huddled like refugees under a blanket. The power was out. The heating was off. And it was _cold. _

Normally, they would have sat on opposite ends of the couch from each other. Even though their personal relationship had recently improved, as nations, they were still a world apart. North was bitter and often had a hard time separating his feelings about _America_ from his feelings about _Alfred_. And even when things between them personally were fine, they had to conceal their feelings, especially from North's leader. North's house had several cameras, meaning they could never be even remotely friendly, even in the relative privacy of North's home.

But with the power out, so were the cameras, and winters in North Korea were notoriously bitter. America feared he may actually freeze to death if the power didn't come back on soon. North must have felt the same way. Somehow, they had ended up pressed into each other's sides for warmth.

It was…nice, America thought. He wanted to be closer to him. Physically and emotionally. He wasn't really sure why. Maybe it was because he liked the thrill of doing something as taboo as falling for an 'enemy'. Maybe he saw, every now and then, traces of a North less hardened by isolation, more like his brother in the South. Maybe he just felt sorry for him. He wanted to show North what it was like to be happy. What it was like to not worry where your people would get their next meal from or whether a war would break out on your land the next morning. He'd told North this once. Told him how he felt and how he wanted to be closer to him. He'd never really gotten a clear answer. Maybe North felt the same way—maybe he didn't. Either way it was certainly the threat of North's leader finding out that kept him from giving an answer. But America was almost sure there was a part of North that felt the same. Part of him must want that attention. Everyone needs to feel loved. Even him.

Perhaps pressing himself into America's side for warmth was his way of showing affection without being open about it. It was the perfect excuse. America could have been totally wrong in this assumption, but there was no one – not even the cameras – around to see if he decided to take it further. Almost cautiously, he wrapped his arms around the other to pull him closer and continued to hug him after that. It just felt natural to hold him this way. North fidgeted, and for a moment America thought maybe he was going to pull away and take his precious warmth with him. But to his surprise, he actually nuzzled in closer and even pulled the blanket around them a little tighter—all without a word. It was then that America was certain how North felt.

There was a lone candle flickering delicately on a small table nearby—their sole source of light. In its gentle glow, he could see that North's cheeks were flushed red from the cold. It was somehow perfect. Unable to help himself, he dipped his head to leave a soft kiss on the Korean's cheek, watching hopefully for his response.

The Korean raised his head, perhaps a little surprised, and looked first at America and then at the camera across the room, no doubt checking to make sure that it was, indeed, off. When he looks back at America, America is surprised by what he sees in the other's eyes: longing.

Only now, in the faint candlelight—away from the prying eyes of cameras and military officials, away from nosy civilians, away from the judgment of their fellow nations—will he allow his true feelings to show through.

Now certain beyond a doubt, America let his lips press gently onto North's. The warmth spread through him in a wave, starting near his ears and working its way all the way down to his toes. He felt North sigh contentedly against his lips and he goes in again, kissing longer and deeper, cherishing every breath and sigh. Tongues and lips roll together in a sweet harmony that America never wants to end. At some point North pulled the blanket up over their heads, wrapping them in a bubble of warm, wordless passion. America wasn't sure how long they spent like that, but at some point he realized he was no longer cold. The next time they broke for air, North lowered the blanket from their heads so that they could breathe the fresher, cooler air from outside.

His dark eyes flicked to the tiny, blinking point of light on an activated camera across the room.

America barely had time to register what that light meant before he was roughly shoved back to his end of the couch. For a moment, he sat there shocked. How had such a precious moment devolved back into their usual coldness? But another look at North revealed, in the flickering light, just the tiniest smile on his face.

No words passed between them that night, but all was understood.


End file.
